


Kept

by stardropdream



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 08:41:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5999401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardropdream/pseuds/stardropdream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aramis shows Porthos just how much he loves him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kept

**Author's Note:**

> Bless AO3 for having an "ass to mouth" tag. Lord. 
> 
> Written for the prompt "Aramis worshipping Porthos' ass". So, enjoy some bottom Porthos. World needs more of it.

Porthos is pressed up to the wall, hands flat, and he arches slightly with a hitched breath when Aramis presses one finger into him. Aramis hooks it once, leans in, licks at him – a slow slide, moaning out as he feels Porthos shift beneath his hand – that slow, desperate curse Porthos hisses out through his teeth. He spreads his legs for him more and Aramis hums out, shifts closer. His knees ache, but this is too much, just enough, everything he needs to do—

He sits up a bit more, nuzzles at the small of Porthos’ back, kisses at the bumps of his spine, over the jagged, threading scars weaving across his back – that smooth latticework of fighting, etched forever across his skin. They only make him more beautiful to Aramis – a reminder of all that Porthos has faced, a reminder of all the times he’s shown his back not in retreat but in protection. 

Like this, he can give Porthos what he needs. Like this, he can make sure Porthos knows – beyond a doubt, beyond a single shadow of a doubt – how good Porthos makes him feel in turn. This much is nothing. This much is only a little bit of what Porthos deserves. This much is enough that Aramis can do, like this—

“Good?” Aramis asks, pouring more oil over his fingertips, slicking them up, twisting inside of Porthos and spreading him. Porthos aborts a muffled shout in favor of moaning out Aramis’ name. His fingers drag down over the wall and Aramis watches as Porthos bows his back and then leans forward, pressing his forehead to the wall. He’s breathing labored now, body shivering with that pleasure. 

“Yeah, good,” Porthos manages to breathe out and Aramis nips gently at his thigh in appreciation, traces his tongue over a long sliver of scar across his muscle. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Aramis says because this is what he always says, always will say. Porthos breathes out a laugh – disbelieving, embarrassed. How he always responds to such compliments. 

Aramis slides his palm over his ass, squeezes, spreads him enough so he can lean in and lick at him again in time with his fingers thrusting into him. 

“You’ve always been so beautiful to me,” Aramis whispers out, wishes he could show him properly, wishes he could make him understand as much. “I’ll make you feel good.”

“Yeah,” Porthos murmurs out, arches up. 

“Like that, see?” Aramis hums, presses sloppy kisses to the small of his back, licking at his spine.

Porthos lets out a reedy, breathless laugh. “I _have_ done this before, you know.”

“It’s been a while,” Aramis says, softly, drags his teeth down over the swell of his ass. “Too long. I’ve neglected you.”

Porthos snorts at the sentiment, and then lets out a slow shudder, his entire body shivering as Aramis twists his fingers up, spreading them slightly, licks at him while his free hand moves around him, tucks up against his tongue, and strokes him off – leisurely, slow. 

He brings Porthos off like this – unhurried, undisturbed. He drags him towards that edge, whispers out the praises and the love he can only ever say in these moments. Kisses up his spine and back down again. Licks into him along with his pressing fingers. Kneads at the backs of his thighs, the slope of his ass, the sharp jut of his hip. Curls around his cock and strokes. 

It isn’t long before Porthos is a collapsing mess against the wall. Mumbles out Aramis’ name like a prayer, rocks up into his hand around his cock and back against his fingers and cock. Aramis draws it out of him – keeps Porthos on the edge like this, never lets him come, always draws back and teases it out of him.

It is easy, then, easy and expected and gentle when he can stand – his knees aching in protest – press to him, and slide his cock inside of him gently, simply, fingers stroking over him to make sure he’s ready, to make sure he’s comfortable. Porthos moans out, tips his head back, knocks playfully against the line of Aramis’ jaw.

Mumbles, “About damn time.”

“I make it well worth it, my love,” Aramis reminds him and kisses at the back of his ear when Porthos lets out a soft, breathless laugh and squeezes around him, rolling his hips back in a hurried kind of demanding. Aramis is happy to oblige, so close to the edge himself after drawing it from Porthos. 

He curls his arms around Porthos, presses body to body – slides his hands over his chest, along his stomach – feels the swell of his breath, the beat of his heart. Rocks against him and does not draw it out once he is inside of him – gives Porthos what he wants, rocks harder against him, quickly, thrusting into him and stroking over his cock in time to these movements. 

“Fuck,” Porthos gasps out – and he never begs, too proud to beg, but there is an edge of desperation o his voice when he moans out Aramis’ name. Even like this, he demands – and Aramis can do nothing but obey. He rocks harder, faster, into him. He draws Porthos to that edge, curls his hand around him, thumbs at the ridge of his cockhead.

At the edge with him – and lets himself fall. Kisses the slope of his neck. Gasps out his name.


End file.
